Brittany can be a wise ass.
She’s cool, too. She’s probably my favorite Millennial this side of Kelley O’Hara. I share a prison-cell-sized work desk with her. She gives me hell for drinking 37 cups of soda a day. Big trucks need lots of fuel.
“Is that … water?” she asked today, looking at my cup. “Is that … a SALAD?”
[Brittany does write a kickass blog. Read it here.]
Yes, Sherlock. I filled my soda-stained cup with water, just this once. And it’s a federal case. Thing is, today’s word, water, had proved nearly as tricky as lips and bubbles, until my bout of healthiness.
I drank all that water and crunched the ice that went with it. I’m practically Jack Lalanne at this point.
Know what happened? That damned water made me thirsty. That Greek salad. Delicious, yes. But it just made me long for baklava. So I did the only thing any of you would have done: I filled the cup next time with Coke Zero. And had a ham and bacon sandwich.